April in Paris

byWyden Long©

Copyright (c) Wyden Long, 2003

The words to the old Nat King Cole favorite ran through her mind again and again as the plane began its final descent into Charles de Gaulle airport. For years, she had hated her mother for naming her after an old, hokey song, but as she matured she had learned to appreciate it and eventually to love it for the feelings it evoked when his smoky voice drifted from the speakers.

April glanced at her watch. "About time for me to get ready," she mused. "I can't believe I'm actually going through with this insane idea, but as long as I'm here, then I might as well go all the way."

She excused herself to the businessman sitting between her and the aisle and headed for the bathroom to prepare herself. Wyden had told her to meet him with nothing under her dress but Ben Wa balls. She had waited until the last moment to prevent her seat mate from becoming obnoxious as he might certainly have done if she had begun squirming in her seat and rubbing the itch that the Ben Wa balls always created. She expected to do a little squirming, but thought she could hide it in the expected excitement of landing in Paris for the first time.

As April slid across to her seat, she was certain that she heard a quick intake of breath and a couple of querulous sniffs. She smiled to herself at the power she had to control men with the slightest effort and made sure she kept her librarian face on straight.

"I really can't believe that I'm doing this. Oh look! There's the Eiffel Tower and the Arc d'Triomphe and the Seine and..." The words died in her throat as she struggled to take it all in at once and to assimilate the reality of having actually gone through with his crazy scheme.

It had started as a harmless flirtation. Flirting in person always had a certain element of danger. One could never be certain that the flirtee wasn't mentally unbalanced or incapable of understanding that she intended nothing beyond the flirting. In a couple of painful instances, she had narrowly escaped without a major scandal when someone she had no intention of allowing next to her decided to up the ante way beyond her limit.

Then came the Internet with its promise of total anonymity. She was able to flirt to the utmost degree. She could even promise sexual favors she had only dreamed of participating in, without fear of having to follow through. When asked for a picture, she would send something she found on the Net that looked like the person she was mentally impersonating. What was the harm in it? No one was hurt and her life became much more interesting when she was able to blithely provide complete strangers with the stuff of dreams.

April worked as a small town librarian and had settled into a humdrum sort of existence with a gentle and devoted husband who tried his best to satisfy her every whim without realizing that one man could never completely satisfy her unspoken whims. In earlier times, she had taken many chances at losing her happy home for the sake of a little spice. Then came the Internet. Saved by the 'net!

Now, after having found a safe outlet for her life-enhancing fantasies, she had fallen into a cleverly designed trap.

"Congratulations!," the notice had said. "Your story has been selected as the "Best in Category" for the month of January. Due to a generous bequest from one of our sponsors, your award is an all-expense paid trip for one person to Paris, France."

April had read and reread the notice until the phosphor was starting to dim on her screen. Was it real? Could it possibly be real? Try as she might to remain skeptical, the idea started to take root in her imagination. She saw herself dancing down the Champs Elysee in a flaring 50's style skirt like Cyd Charisse wore in some of those old movies they showed at the library sometimes.

Suddenly, it dawned on her. She dashed off a hot note to one of her ardent admirers that had been wanting to meet her for a long time. "Wyden, that was a dirty trick! Shame on you!"

"What's dirty about a week in Paris, my love? The award may be phony, but the offer is real. The only catch is that I get to join you there. No other strings are attached. You will not be required to do one thing you do not wish to participate in (as long as you don't mind a dangling participle or so). Meet me in Paris for a weekend and let me show you the city I love."

"I can't possibly do that," she responded. "Too many people I love and respect would be hurt or upset if I just took off like that. You're sweet to make the offer, but I can't possibly accept. Thank you for making my day, but no thanks."

Now, she sat by the window with the steel balls clinking inside and felt her temperature rise as she watched the City of Light grow closer. "What was it he finally said that made me agree to this ridiculous notion? I can't even remember now. Well, I'll just have to take the next plane home and find some way to repay him for the trip over."

There was no opportunity to remove the Ben Wa balls before the plane landed, or to replace her panties, so April walked gingerly up the gangway to immigration, terrified that the balls would fall out if she took one step too long. Their clinking added to her consternation now, more than to her sexual readiness, although she could sense the moisture generated by her earlier reaction and worried that it would allow the balls to slide out at the worst possible moment. She looked around vainly for a restroom, but apparently they were all situated after immigration.

After what seemed to be an interminable delay, April emerged from customs with her bag and a furious determination to find a restroom.

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

The voice behind her stopped her in her tracks. There was a familiar quality to it and an underlying meaning that she was certain she understood, but couldn't quite place. She tried to ignore it and continue to the restroom to rid herself of those damned balls before they rolled across the lobby, leaving snail trails in their wake.

"Stop now!"

It wasn't a shout, but it was said with a degree of mastery that made her legs weaken and threaten to spill her.

She stopped.

"Close your eyes and stand up straight," said with the same tone--undemanding, yet confident of her compliance. How did he know of her need to be dominated? Ah! Of course. He had read her stories and realized that they contained more than a bit of wishful thinking. Whatever created her need held her firmly rooted to the spot as he came from behind and pulled her quivering body back against his rigid one.

She felt something metallic against her lips, but it became leather as it was slid across them, then metallic, then leather. Ah, it was a metal-studded belt of some kind. It was rubbed across her lips, then her breasts and as it descended toward the Valley of the Balls, she felt a large hand cup her braless breast through her dress. His fingers manipulated her rapidly swelling nipple while his other hand raked the studs across her outthrust mound.

The urge to open her eyes to see the response of her fellow travelers to her plight was almost overwhelming, but he had told her to keep them closed and so she would. Another gush of liquid nearly dislodged the balls but she squeezed her thighs together more tightly and tried to stand a little straighter.

Just before her body exploded in response to the fire he had lit, the collar was removed from her vee and secured about her throat.

"Cum," he said.

And she did. The balls that had been squeezed so tightly managed their escape with explosive force, clinking loudly as they struck the floor. The realization that she was to be led from the terminal on a leash had been the final step necessary to prepare her for his ambiguous command. If he had meant it in a different way, he should have tugged on her leash at the same time.

Aprils thighs were coated with her juices as she followed her leader.

"Is everyone watching?"

"Yes. Everyone."

"Will there be a problem?"

"No. This is Paris. The rules are different here."

"May I see your face?"

"Not until tomorrow."

"May I leave now?" "If you like."

"Then lead on, Master. How do we go into the city?"

"By the Metro. That's their subway. Watch your step here."

April could feel herself being carried down a very long escalator. It was difficult to maintain her balance with her eyes closed, but the security of the leash attached to her neck was comforting in the small amount of stability and balance it provided. Eyes still tightly closed, she allowed herself to be guided into the car she could sense before her.

It was rush hour and the crowd was dense. "Everyone must be staring," she thought, bringing a rush of color to her cheeks. For the first time, she missed the clink of her missing balls, but not for long. She felt her skirt being raised very slowly behind her until she was certain that her entire ass was fully exposed to the commuters jammed around. The color in her cheeks increased, as did the color in her other cheeks.

A hand tentatively explored her backside as if the owner of the hand were asking his permission to touch his slave. Apparently, permission was forthcoming because the hand began making more intimate explorations and was soon joined by three or four more. Most were large and rough, but at least one must have belonged to a woman.

The smell of sex was heavy in the dense crowd. April could hear heavy breathing on all sides as her fellow travelers seemed to have been drawn into the lustful spell. Someone must have dropped to their knees because she felt two hands grasp the back of her thighs from the front and a head being raised under her skirt. Hot blasts of excited breath were fanning across her bare cunt.

The first touch of (his/her?) tongue felt like a burning spear and caused an immediate involuntary spasm to course through her body. One hand left the back of her knee and drifted to her swollen pussy.

Someone, (was it her master or a guest?) pushed himself tightly against her bare ass and forced an outsized member between her legs. Her kneeling lover spread her burning lips with one hand and held the fleshy bar tightly against April's clit, without allowing it to penetrate her.

The lustful atmosphere and sense of urgency precluded long foreplay. Everyone wanted the play to conclude before the next stop. Accordingly, the rod between her lips began to spew huge quantities of hot, burning liquid simultaneously with her own cataclysmic orgasm. April's front-side attendant stood and cupped her hand in front of the stream, to catch as much as possible and rub it into her flesh.

The train squealed to a stop. Without a sound, her attendants, lovers and audience departed, to be replaced by another batch. Six times before she and her master reached their stop, April was treated to variations on a theme. Some more explicit than others. Some more subtle, depending on the mood of the group at hand.

April almost wished she could open her eyes to see the reactions around her, but then that would spoil the play, wouldn't it? So, she kept them tightly closed, as ordered.

"Bon soir, Monsieur. It is nice to see you again. Would you like your regular suite?"

"Bon soir, Phillipe. Yes. That will do nicely."

"Will you be requiring any additional services this evening?"

"Yes, thank you. Please have a nice young boy bring up the items on this list in a few minutes."

"Any special requirements?"

"Only that he be well endowed. Perhaps a Nubian?"

"As you wish, Monsieur. Front!"

April could hear the bellhop's ragged breath as he stood near her in the elevator, no doubt breathing the fumes of the multiple orgasms she and her attendants had enjoyed on the way from the airport. She could feel his eyes caressing her body and lingering wonderingly on her leash and collar.

"Anything else, Monsieur?"

"Yes, please. Tie Miss April to the bed for me, will you? Make sure she is well stretched."

"Will that be with or without her clothes, Sir?"

"Keep them on her, please, but raise the front of. her dress to allow us to enjoy the evidence of her recent escapades."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Will that be all?"

"Just one more thing. Would you please be so kind as to tidy up the lady's sticky parts? I'm sure she would appreciate a nice warm cloth at this point. Wouldn't you, my love?"

April felt it strange to have a direct question addressed to her. She had entered into the spirit of the evening to the extent that she no longer thought of herself as the person who had boarded the plane less than twelve hours ago, but as a willing vessel and player in an elaborate farce that would end long before she willed it.

All she could manage was a slight nod and a low moan. A lustful lassitude enveloped her as she listened to the water running warm in the bath and anticipated the first touch of the steamy cloth across her prickly mound.

When it came, it was more than she had expected-- Hot, almost to the point of blistering, moist and scented with some exotic fragrance. Tender hands guided the soft cloth across her belly and between her legs. Up, through the guide rails of her outer lips and across her tortured clitoris. Slowly, lovingly, followed by his tender kisses on the freshly wiped surfaces. April's thighs stiffened once more, to press her lips more tightly against his. Another series of wracking shudders twisted her body against her restraints, but her eyes remained tightly closed. She wondered what he looked like and how old he might be.

What was it her master had said about a Nubian? Did that mean what she thought it might? Anticipation made her wet with desire. How could she have so completely abandoned any reticence whatsoever to comply with any request made by her master? All she knew was that her life would never be the same again.

The bellhop had completed his services and departed when the knock came. Even the knock sounded well endowed. How big would he be? How black? A giant? It would be so easy to open her eyes enough to answer her questions, but she wanted to imagine as much as possible.

The bed squeaked and groaned as a large weight descended on it. Thighs like tree trunks straddled her chest as she reached upwards to locate and grasp her treasure.

Tonight was her night. Tomorrow was his. That was the deal. Her mind raced through dozens of potential scenarios as her hands tried vainly to encircle her latest gift.

"Thank you, my love, for your understanding of my needs. May your turn be equally enjoyable. Now if you will excuse me for a bit. A lady doesn't speak with her mouth very, very full."

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